


You're Ruining My Week

by tinymacuser1998



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Friendship/Love, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinymacuser1998/pseuds/tinymacuser1998
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Who the fuck?” Foggy asked, even though he immediately knew who the fuck. Barnes’s eyes snapped to his face, then sized him up. Foggy felt a need to hide behind the clothes he was wearing.<br/>“This is one of Murdock’s safe houses, right?” Bucky asked.<br/>It’s not that Foggy was a skeptical person by nature, the problem more so was that he, as a rule, did not trust anyone farther than he could throw them.<br/>And Bucky Barnes, all two hundred and fifty pounds of newfound patriotism that he was, wasn’t a person Foggy could easily lift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Ruining My Week

**Author's Note:**

> based off this http://matt-and-foggy.tumblr.com/post/117665260526/fic

It’s not that Foggy was a skeptical person by nature, the problem more so was that he, as a rule, did not trust anyone farther than he could throw them.

And Bucky Barnes, all two hundred and fifty pounds of newfound patriotism that he was, wasn’t a person Foggy could easily lift.

And yet, there he was in Foggy’s livingroom, being patching himself up and Foggy wasn’t going to be able to watch _The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt_ in his underwear and avoid his concern for Matt that night, either.

So there goes his plans.

He dropped his carton of Ben and Jerry’s when he saw him on his couch, looking brooding and anti-heroish that might be attractive for some (cough, Karen, cough), but actually terrifying for a guy wearing briefs and a terrycloth robe at bumfuck in the morning. Also, the dude’s mechanical arm, a piece with a red star painted menacingly onto it, was detached and on his coffee table. Well then.

“Who the fuck?” Foggy asked, even though he immediately knew who the fuck. Barnes’s eyes snapped to his face, then sized him up. Foggy felt a need to hide behind the clothes he was wearing.

“This is one of Murdock’s safe houses, right?” Bucky asked. Foggy dumbly nodded, and bent over to pick up his Phish Food from where it landed on the floor. He walked into the joint kitchenette to wash the grime off the carton.

“I wouldn’t say it’s exactly a safe house, but sure, let’s go with that,” Foggy said, feeling a twinge in his stomach because Bucky Barnes, the guy who was a Russian merc since about four and a half months ago when he was expunged of espionage and crimes against humanity by the Supreme Court, was in his house watching his TV and knowing his best friend's secret identity.

“I’ll be out of your hair in two shakes. Steve is going to swing by and take me back to the tower soon,” Bucky said, turning his attention back to his arm on the table and wincing, “it’s just that this was the closest place.”

Foggy’s ears and face felt hot. “I don’t know if you expected me to be cool with this, but I’m not. You can stay here until whoever comes to pick you up, but I want you out the door before they come here. I don’t need superheroes knowing where I live. You go it?”

Any kindness that was in Bucky’s eyes immediately diminished. It was replaced with a steely, business-like scowl. He nodded once. “Of course,”

Foggy say beside him on the couch after that, watching with very little interest last night’s news and eating his Ben and Jerry’s. After ten minutes, Bucky stood up, took his arm, and walked out the front door.

“You left oil stains on my coffee table!” Foggy called after him.

And that, officially, is when Foggy got the reputation of being a hardass.

* * *

 

Matt’s initial response on Monday morning when Foggy walked into work was, “Alright, why’d you do it?”

Foggy didn’t have to have the detective skills of a blind vigilante to infer that his friend was talking about the problems he faced with Bucky Barnes earlier that weekend.

Foggy shrugged, and threw an everything bagel at Matt, which he caught while frowning and making his trademark Disappointed face at Foggy.

“Foggy, I’m serious,” Matt said after snatching the bagel out of the air. Foggy sat down in his desk chair.

“So am I, and also, I don’t think a reaction of shock was unjustified in that situation,” Foggy said, unwrapping his own bagel with salmon and shmear and taking a bite, “He was an enemy of the state until about three weeks ago.”

“Would you have reacted any differently if it was another superhero?” Matt asked, stalking over to Foggy’s desk.

No, you idiot. He called you by name, Foggy thought, but he shrugged again. “I guess we’ll never know.”

Matt, seeming satisfied with his answer, gave him one stern look before tap tap tapping his cane that he didn’t need on the floor to find his way to his own office. Foggy’s eyes prickle in a way they shouldn’t be, and he is getting way better at telling half-truths than he ever thought he’d be comfortable with.

* * *

 

Spider-man was a newcomer to the superhero thing, but he was probably the politest one out of all of them. He was young, from what Matt could tell, and as excited as anything to be slumming it with the bigger crowd. He’d been a card-holding member of the Avengers for all of nine days when he get stabbed in Hell’s Kitchen after chasing a purse-snatcher. Long story short, he ended up in the law office.

He quietly and politely said, “hi,” when Foggy walked into the office with three coffees and a huge report file under his arm.

He waited all of three beats before screaming, “Alright, man, what the fuck?!” at Matt from the other room.

Matt winced.

At least he was more polite to Spider-man than he was to Bucky, from what Matt gathered. He offered Spider-man his coffee and asked Matt if he wanted to call Karen to tell her not to come into the office today, which Matt thought to be a pretty good idea. He got more nasty, though, when Spider-man made an offhanded comment on how he was going to be tired at school that day.

“You’re a student?” Foggy asked, exasperated.

He looked to Matt expectantly, who nodded and went back to giving Spider-man the stitches he needed. It wasn’t news to Matt. The way his voice cracked and how he carried himself were mannerisms that signified that Spider-man was anywhere between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. Which was pretty young, and why SHIELD was holding off on hiring him, and why most superheroes other than the Avengers wouldn’t work with him.

Matt was pissed that he was in Hell’s Kitchen while Foggy was pissed he was on the streets in general.

He went off on the boy, who took it like a champ even though he was uncomfortable. Foggy ranted about how unsafe and stupid he was. Matt smirked under his cowl and nodded at the appropriate times. The ranting went on until Spider-man was done being patched up, and Matt was leading him towards the fire escape to exit.

Then, Foggy said, “This is the problem with superheroes; they don’t care about the people they could be leaving behind.”

That struck a chord with both Matt and Spider-man, whose shoulders were becoming tight in a taunt in a way that Matt interpreted as violent, angry, and too far. Matt clasped him on the shoulder.

“Ignore that. Ignore what he just said,” Matt whispered. “I’ll talk to him later.”

Spider-man nodded once, then swung off the fire escape.

“What was that for?” Foggy asked.

Matt pulled off his cowl and exhaled softly, falling back into his desk chair. “I know you meant well, Foggy, and that isn’t anything he hasn’t heard before, but you can’t just say things like that-”

“Why not, if that’s how I feel?” Foggy said defensively.

Matt looked up with a, quite frankly, exhausted expression. His eyes searched Foggy’s face.

“It’s hard to read you when you’re upset like this,” He said. Bile rose in Foggy’s throat.

“Good.”

* * *

 

Foggy didn’t come in for two days after that. He just sat at home, and contemplated going to Marci’s, even though he knew he’d never do it after a fight like that. He sat in his house, waiting for Matt to come after him.

That was a constant factor of their friendship. Even before Nelson and Murdock, and even before the mask, Matt would always come after Foggy after he let him steam.

Matt climbed into Foggy’s window with a cut that spanned his entire stomach and another collapsed lung, and, apparently, some things weren’t ever going to change.

He could’ve gone to Stark Tower or something, now that Matt was an affiliate of theirs, and he could’ve gotten Matt into SHIELD medical care, somehow, but he didn’t. He called Claire. He picked Matt off his floor and slipped in his best friend’s blood and called Claire because he was selfish and a dick.

Claire, thankfully, was on a a subway already to make call, though, and was at Foggy’s in no less than an hour. She told Foggy that the cut looked worse than it was, but he needed to stay off the streets for a week so his stitches wouldn’t rip. Foggy estimated, in Daredevil time, that would mean Matt would stay off for three days as a recovery period.

Foggy thanked her, gave her a coffee and a Cliff bar for the road, and threw up in his sink once after she left and he went to cleaning up the blood on his floor.

He sat on the cushion of his couch that Matt was not occupying. Matt was curled into a fetal position around his ribs and stomach, and Foggy was preparing to feed him the pain pills that Claire left. Matt’s eyes fluttered open.

“Mm, Foggy?” Matt asked.

Foggy smiled despite himself. “In the flesh, pal. How’re you feeling?”

Matt stretched, uncurling and putting his head in Foggy’s lap. “‘M feeling... kinda dizzy. How’re ya feelin’, Fogs?”

Foggy winced. “Ah, well, y’know me.”

Matt frowned in a funny way. “Y’know, Foggy, I can’ say I can right now.”

Foggy moved to stand, but Matt put his hand firmly on Foggy’s thigh. “Don’ move, Foggy. Talk ta me.”

“I’m not in the talking mood right now, pal,” Foggy said, biting back tears.

“I know, Fogs,” Matt said, attempting to prop himself up on his elbows before Foggy rushed to stop him. He ended up with a heap of Matt weighing down his arms and torso, “I wanna talk ta you.”

“What if... I don’t want to hear what you have to say?” Foggy asked.

Matt put his hand on Foggy’s chest. “Ya didn’ used ta be mean,”

Ohh, there it was. Alligator tears started forming at the corners of Foggy’s eyes and slipped down his cheeks. He hadn’t cried like this since he had first found out Matt was Daredevil.

“I need to to go to sleep, Matt. We have work tomorrow,” Foggy insisted, slipping his arm out from under Matt to grab for another pain killer.

“Promise you’ll talk to me tomorrow,” Matt mumbled, taking the pill from his friend’s hand.

“If you remember , I’ll promise,” Foggy said.

Matt took a sidelong look at him, and then dry swallowed the pill before making himself comfortable in Foggy’s lap.

Foggy didn’t let himself choke on his tears until he was sure Matt was in a deep sleep. He was getting too good at telling these half-truths than he ever wanted to be comfortable with.

* * *

 

Matt woke up with a stuffy head and a throbbing pain in his side. He felt movement when he woke, and looked up to see Foggy’s head lolled to the side. He was softly snoring.

He could’ve tried to slip out without waking Foggy, but the events of last night rushed at him suddenly. He grabbed Foggy’s shoulder and shook it.

Foggy startled awake, snorting and hitting his head on the wooden part of the back of his couch. He grabbed at his head and bent over himself, cursing quietly. Matt laughed into where he was folded into Foggy’s stomach.

Foggy startled and looked down at Matt. Foggy’s face was tear-stained and red from crying the night before. Matt instinctively cupped the side of his face. Foggy blanched, and pulled back suddenly. His heart rate sped up. Matt gathered his strength and pushed himself up despite the protest of his stomach.

Once Matt was up, he gathered himself with a few shaky breaths. When he was composed, he looked to Foggy, who was staring over him worriedly.

“Okay, Foggy, we need to talk about why you’ve been acting like such a dick recently,” Matt said.

Foggy made a disgusted face. “Me? A dick? You are surely mistaken.”

The smile slipped off Matt’s face. “I’m being serious, Fogs.”

Foggy scrubbed a hand over his face and avoided eye contact with Matt. “I don’t feel like I’ve been acting like a dick-”

“You see? Right there!” Matt said, pointing at Foggy and almost hitting his nose. Foggy flinched away, “You didn’t used to talk like that. You used to be really straightforward, and not cryptic at all!”

“Yeah, well, maybe I took a page out of your book,” Foggy said bitterly.

Matt was stunned, “I don’t understand why you’re mad at me, but whatever is wrong between us shouldn’t translate to other people.”

“It doesn’t translate to other people!” Foggy shouted, “You should’ve seen me talk to Claire yesterday. I was a peach, Murdock.”

“I’m not talking about Claire, Foggy.”

Foggy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, Matt.”

Matt hesitantly put a hand on Foggy’s back, “Foggy,”

“I don’t feel comfortable, and I probably never will, about this vigilante thing you do. But I’ll try, Matt. I’ll try, if you need me to.”

It was the worst thing Matt had ever heard. Foggy hadn’t sounded his helpless since he first found out Matt was the mask. Matt’s eyes started to tear.

“I just want to know what’s wrong,” Matt asked.

“I don’t know if I can tell you,” Foggy replied.

Matt’s heart jumped into his throat and he couldn’t swallow around it. He started to tear up, and he couldn’t stop himself from sobbing shakily.

“Aw, shit, Matt. Don’t be like that,” He said, leaning forward to hug Matt. Matt clung on to him and buried his face in Foggy’s hair. Foggy rubbed circles into his back.

“I hate this,” Matt said, “I hate that I lied to you and I hate that you don’t trust me and I’m sorry, Foggy. I’m sorry that you’re angry and can’t tell me why.”

Foggy’s back straightened, and he separated himself from Matt at arm’s length.

“It’s because I’m worried, Matt.” Foggy said, “Shit, of course it’s because I’m worried. You’ve been doing this for almost a year now, and you’re working with other superheroes, and it’s all official now.”

Matt swallowed and nodded for him to move on.

Foggy sighed and gripped his shoulders a bit, looking away from him and at the ground, “I just... I guess it’s stupid, but meeting other superheroes and seeing them all banged up, it kind of reminds me that some day, you could be bleeding out on a stranger’s house or in their office, and I could have no idea where you are while you’re dying.”

It was silent for a long time until Matt swallowed, realizing that Foggy’s hands were still gripping onto his shoulders. Foggy’s pulse was drumming in his ears.

“It’s pretty stupid,” Foggy said.

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” Matt affirmed. Foggy still didn’t look at him, and he brought his hand to Foggy’s face.

Foggy’s eyes widened when he realized Matt’s face was getting closer to his. When Matt closed the gap between them, he squeaked, and didn’t close his eyes or open his mouth.

Matt waited for any sort of response before pulling back. Foggy was still, and his hands were crumpled into his chest. His face was frozen, and lips were turned down into a frown. Matt rubbed circles into his cheek.

“Did I, um, misread that, or..?” He asked.

Foggy stayed still before drawing in a shaky breath. He whispered to himself, “shit, shit, shit,” and stood, scratching the back of his head and pacing.

“What made you think that was okay?” Foggy demanded.

“You were excited and I wanted to do it,” Matt said simply.

Foggy shook his head, “Alright, that’s fair, I get that. No, yeah, I get that. But, Matt, you’re the straightest straight to ever straight.”

Matt stared at him for a solid thirty seconds before busting out laughing.

“What? What?” He asked before Matt calmed down enough to speak.

“I’m not, though,” Matt said, “did you always just assume that?”

“Well, you’ve never dated a guy,” Foggy said indignantly.

“And I’ve never dated a girl, either,” Matt added, “I don’t date people, Foggy.”

“Well, I’m not going to be a one night stand, Matt!” Foggy huffed. Matt laughed again, so hard that it hurt his stomach and he was wheezing by the end of it.

Foggy rushed over to support him, and ended up on his knees next to Matt. Matt wrapped his arms around his shoulders and whispered into his ear, “Foggy, I don’t want you to be a one night stand.”

Foggy swallowed audibly, and Matt dragged his thumb down the side of Foggy’s face.

“Is showing up half dead on my floor your way of being romantic?” Foggy asked.

Matt ran his hand through Foggy’s hair and shook his head. “Nah, this was all just coincidence. Would you believe that?”

“With you, nothing ever is,” Foggy said, allowing himself to be drawn closer to Matt’s face.

Matt can taste him now. The air was getting heavy with arousal and confusion and the rich, musky scent that was Foggy. He wanted to lap it up off him. He nipped at Foggy’s ear.

“Wooooah, woah, woah,” Foggy said, pulling away, “you know I don’t putout on the first date, Murdock. And we’ve already ridden the emotions train enough today. Let’s get some rest and wait to heal before you decide to get frisky.”

Matt nuzzled into the side of his neck. “You sure?”

“I’m sure as shit that you’re in no state to slam hams with thirteen stitches in your stomach,” Foggy said, pulling back a little. “You can sleep in my bed, if you like, but I think rest is priority one. Well, I mean priority one after breakfast.”

Matt stood up, putting more of his weight on Foggy. “And if I’m feeling okay after breakfast?”

“Then we’ll have a beautiful lunch. Now to bed with you, Murdock.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank not only god but jesus for my drive to write this au


End file.
